In the darkening twilight I can tell that smile is pasted on.
“What’s the brave face about?”
“I’m just in my feelings. Nothing to do with you. Don’t worry.”
Too bad. I am worried. I’ll make it my life’s mission to worry about Iris.
I scoot the next chair close to hers and have a seat.
“Want to talk about it?”
She blows out a long breath and pushes her hair back from her face. “My aunt said some stuff. Old family drama. I allowed her to make me spiral and I needed some time alone.”
I nod in understanding. I want to know all about it. I’m dying to know, in fact.
“What did she say to you?”
“You don’t want to hear all that,” Iris scoffs.
“My brother and I got left at a McDonald's along I-40 when I was four years old, and he was eight. Our dad was suing our mom for full custody, and she had a break from reality, you could say. And there was a lot of chemicals in her system contributing to that decision. Dad never let us see her again. Trust me when I say, I’m begging you to tell me about your trauma.”
“My gosh. I’m so sorry, Oliver,” she says, a hand over her mouth.
I shrug and wave it off. “She’s good now. Mostly. We’re working on our shit. So tell me. What’s your deal?”
Iris goes on to tell me about her own mother, who never told her who her daddy was. How she has four siblings, from three different fathers. How her mother hopped from one boyfriend to another until she finally hopped away from her family for good. How her grandmother, whom she calls MiMi, raised her and her siblings, but her aunt carries on like the family martyr, taking on the care of her sister’s children. About the disputed will after MiMi died, the bad blood that happened when everything went to Iris.
“I was a wild child, just like my Momma,” Iris says. “I had a reputation. But MiMi said I needed the responsibility to help me rise to the occasion. Everyone else thought MiMi’s house should sell, and that I should split the profits evenly with everyone. But no way I was going to do that to the house I grew up in. This house was the only place I felt safe. Every bad decision, every bad relationship, anytime I was used up and spit out by life, I ended up back here with MiMi. I kind of feel like her leaving me this house was her way of trying to keep me tethered to the ground.”
I hold my hand out, reaching for hers.
“That’s beautiful, Iris. I think your MiMi would be damn proud of you.”
“Except for one thing,” she says.
“What one thing?” I ask, leaning forward in my chair, needing to be closer to her.
“I still fall for the wrong men.”
I’m not the smartest at interpreting people’s meaning, so it takes me a minute to realize Iris is talking about me and not some recent ex who did her wrong.
But I’m not so dense that I soon remember how I left things earlier today.
“Remember this morning when I said I wanted to talk about last night?”
“Yes,” she says, staring at her feet and clutching the blanket around her shoulders. The crack of the burning wood punctuates her single word.
“I meant to tell you, I thought last night was special. I think you’re a phenomenal woman. And I want to keep seeing you.”
She looks over at me and smiles, but there’s pain in it. “You don’t owe me anything. I know this is temporary.”
“Iris.”
“I’m used to guys saying all the right things just to disappear later. I know how you all think. You all think it’s easier and nicer to make me feel special before you fade into the background. But the truth is, it’s nicer for you men. It’s easier for you men. Well, I’m used to it. I don’t need you to coddle me. Just tell me straight up you want to see me, but you also want to see other people. Then we can tear the band-aid off, and you’ll be free to ask out Evelyn.”
Now I’m confused all over again, but also angry—at the men in her life, not her.
“Who the hell is Evelyn?”
